their own,’ she admitted reluctantly. ‘We drifted apart years ago.’
Bernard stared at her down-bent head for some time with an enigmatic expression in his eyes before he turned away and started the car, backing it out of the parking area and swerving it into the stream of oncoming traffic.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked tentatively after he had made several turnings through the centre of the bustling city with its tall buildings towering above them and casting shadows across the busy street.
‘I made arrangements for us to lunch at a hotel,’ he told her with harsh abruptness. ‘We have an hour to kill, so we might as well go there now, freshen up, and have a leisurely drink before we eat. ’
Olivia accepted this in silence, an uneasy silence that lingered until, after washing her hands and checking on her appearance in the hotel cloakroom, she joined him in the lounge. Except for a few other people seated at the far end of the large room, they were alone and quite secluded behind the large stand of potted plants, she noticed, lowering herself into the cool leather armchair opposite him with the small, round table between them. He ordered a beer for himself, and a sherry for her, and Olivia welcomed the intrusion into the tense atmosphere that hovered between them when the steward arrived with their order.
She sipped at her drink and the liquid seemed to flow through her veins, steadying her quivering nerves and allowing her a measure of calmness in the presence of this brooding, silent man who seemed bent upon making her feel as uncomfortable as possible by his intense scrutiny.
‘Isn’t the sherry to your liking?’ he asked finally, his deep voice sending shivers up her spine.
‘ It’s fine, thank you. ’
‘Then why were you frowning?’
‘Was I frowning?’ she prevaricated, meeting his glance over the rim of her glass.
‘Olivia,’ he sighed heavily, his lips tightening with a touch of impatience. ‘Stop answering my questions with another question. You know you were frowning, and I want to know why.’
She observed him for a moment from beneath lowered lashes, her glance lingering on the strong jaw, the firm mouth, and the slight paleness of his cheeks which had been covered by a beard only a few days ago, and she realised, almost with regret, that she would not be able to think of him again as the ‘Bearded Monster’.
‘You look different without your beard,’ she said without thinking, but she could have bitten her tongue off when she noticed the glint of mockery in the depths of his eyes.
‘Would you say that shaving it off has improved by appearance?’ he wanted to know, fingering his jaw, and obviously finding some amusement in the flush that stole into her cheeks.
‘I suppose you could say that, yes,’ she replied evasively, raising her glass to her lips and swallowing down a mouthful of sherry to hide her confusion.
‘That doesn’t sound very encouraging,’ he mocked her ruthlessly.
Olivia lowered her glance to the glass which she clenched so tightly between her fingers. ‘My opinion doesn’t really matter.’
‘I’m asking for your opinion.’
The situation was suddenly not without humour, and she felt a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she looked up and met his eyes unwaveringly. ‘Well, it ... you don’t look so ferocious any more.’
‘Did I look ferocious?’ he smiled suddenly.
‘Yes,’ she admitted, laughing nervously. ‘You scared me to death that day when you walked into my shop for the first time.’
‘I know,’ he nodded, draining his glass of beer.
‘You know?’
‘Yes,’ he replied solemnly, but devilment lurked in his eyes. ‘You were shaking so much I could hear your bones rattling.’
‘That’s not true!’ she gasped, and then she surprised even herself as she heard the laughter bubble past her lips.
‘Do you know that’s the first time I’ve heard you laugh? Really laugh, I mean?’ he remarked soberly, a peculiar, most unfathomable expression flitting across his face, and her smile froze as she felt a tremor shake through her.
Carefully avoiding his glance, Olivia drained her glass and placed it on the table before her. ‘Isn’t it time we went in to lunch?’
‘Isn’t it time you relaxed a little and stopped being so tensed up?’ he counter-questioned, rising to his feet and taking her arm as they went through to the dining-room.
The flight back to Louisville that afternoon was not as smooth as their early morning flight to Johannesburg. The wind had come up and it buffeted the small plane relentlessly, but it subsided gradually as they approached the tropical climate of the northern Transvaal.
‘Louisville isn’t far now,’ Bernard remarked eventually, glancing at his wristwatch. ‘Another fifteen minutes and we’ll most probably be there.’
‘I’m glad.’
‘Tired?’ he asked, glancing at her quickly.
‘Not particularly,’ she replied drowsily, leaning back in her seat and allowing her thoughts to linger on the events of that day.
‘Glad to get away from me, then?’
‘I never said that,’ she contradicted swiftly when she noticed the tightening of his lips.
‘No, you didn’t, did you?’ he agreed, but the atmosphere was all at once unbearably tense again.
They landed on Bernard’s private runway fifteen minutes later as he had predicted, and Olivia’s legs were decidedly wobbly as they walked the short distance to the Land Rover, but Bernard’s steadying hand was beneath her elbow, tightening instantly when she tripped over a loose stone on the uneven ground.
After a day in Johannesburg, where the days were still relatively cool, the late afternoon heat of the bushveld made her feel as though she had walked into a furnace, and she was thankful even for the warm breeze that brushed across her face through the open windows of the Land Rover as they drove towards the house, for it at least made some attempt to cool her.
Bernard parked the Land Rover beneath a shady tree and Olivia was all at once in a hurry to get back to her own peaceful surroundings when she found herself standing in front of him on
the gravel driveway.
‘Thank you very much for—’
‘You’re not going yet,’ he told her firmly, his fingers latching on to her slender wrist as he drew her towards the house. ‘I can do with a long, cool drink, and I hate drinking alone.’
‘I really must—’
‘You really must have a drink with me, Olivia,’ he interrupted again, his touch burning her skin as he led her on to the verandah.
A few minutes later Olivia found herself seated with a cool orange drink in her hand, while she watched Bernard drink deeply on his cold beer. The shadows lengthened and deepened across the evergreen lawns as she watched the sun which was fast becoming a red ball of fire in the west, its rays having a magical effect on the rugged mountains as it changed the rock-like formations from drab brown to bright amber.
‘You must have a beautiful view of the sunset from here,’ she sighed involuntarily, her glance lingering on the scene spread out before her, and losing herself momentarily in the silence of the veld.
‘If you stay to dinner you could watch it with me,’ he suggested, stretching his long legs out before him, but Olivia was .instantly filled with alarm at the prospect of sharing yet another meal with him.
‘No, I—I really must go now. There’s so much I still want to do this evening.’
‘Will you stay to dinner another evening?’ he persisted as she placed her empty glass on the tray and rose to her feet.
‘Perhaps,’ she agreed hesitantly, but her reply appeared to satisfy him, for he got to his feet and walked with her towards her Apache. ‘Thank you for taking me with you. I really am grateful,’ she said, extending her hand towards him. ‘Goodbye.’
‘Not “goodbye”, Olivia,’ he contradicted with a peculiar little smile on his lips as he enveloped her hand in his and tightened his grip when she would have withdrawn hers. �
�Just tot siens, till we meet again, and that will be soon, I hope.’
‘Not if I can help it,’ she thought distractedly, freeing herself at last and escaping in her car. This was the last time she would allow Vivien to inveigle her into something which would involve being alone with Bernard in some way. Never again did she want to live through another day such as the one she had just experienced. Bernard King was much too disturbing, and far too detestable at times when he insisted on probing into her affairs. He had dominated almost every minute of her time in Johannesburg, brushing aside her resistance as one would brush aside an irritating fly, and nothing she had planned ever came to fruition.
He was overbearing and arrogant, but she had to admit to herself that he had been quite pleasant company when she had allowed herself to relax on a few occasions. He had somehow turned the flight, which had been nerve-racking at first, into an adventure she would remember for some time to come, and when he was not mocking her, or probing into her private life, she had found his strong, forceful presence a comfort. He was not as frightening as she had originally imagined him to be, and beneath that hard exterior she sensed a warm, friendly nature that could very easily attract her in an unguarded moment.
Startled and angered at the trend of her thoughts, she shook herself free and concentrated on the road ahead. Bernard King was not at all her type of man, and the less she saw of him, the better for her shattered peace of mind.
CHAPTER SEVEN
There had barely been enough time for Olivia to hang up her bunch of keys the following morning before Ilona Haskins walked into her shop. Her amber linen dress looked cool and elegant, Olivia thought as she looked up with her usual smile, but the answering smile on Ilona’s lips never reached those beautiful, long-lashed eyes as they surveyed Olivia with deliberate coolness.
‘Bernard tells me you had quite a pleasant trip to Johannesburg yesterday, although he found it quite amusing having a novice such as yourself in the plane with him,’ that deceptively warm, silky voice fired the first shot and found its mark with an accuracy that made Olivia wince inwardly.
‘No doubt he did find me an amusing novice.’
‘I’m so glad he took my advice at last and shaved that dreadful beard off,’ Ilona continued chattily, but her watchful eyes never left Olivia’s face. ‘He’s so much more attractive without it, don’t you think?’
‘I suppose so, yes,’ Olivia agreed guardedly, wondering confusedly where this conversation would lead to.
‘But of course he is, and you know it,’ Ilona insisted, her expression hardening. ‘I must warn you, though. Bernard is a terrible tease, so don’t take him too seriously, will you?’
Olivia stiffened instantly. ‘Miss Haskins, what exactly are you
trying to say?’
Those lovely arched eyebrows rose imperiously. ‘Do you need me to spell it out for you?’
‘I wish you would,’ Olivia stated calmly, but there was nothing calm about the way her insides were beginning to shake.
‘Very well, then,’ Ilona began, no longer attempting to hide her feelings behind a facade of friendliness. ‘Don’t get any romantic notions about Bernard, because you might as well know that he and I have had an understanding—an intimate understanding—for some years now.’
‘You’re mistaken, Miss Haskins,’ Olivia protested adamantly, her face growing hot and cold. ‘I have no interest whatsoever in Bernard King, so you need have no fear as far as I’m concerned.’
Ilona’s lips twisted cynically as she added the final touch to her accusation. ‘One wouldn’t say so, judging by the way you’ve been chasing after him lately.’
‘How dare you!’
Hurt and angered by the unfairness of Ilona’s accusation, Olivia gripped the edge of the counter until her knuckles showed white through her faintly tanned skin, but she shrank inwardly from the look of intense hatred in Ilona’s eyes as she said:
‘I dare, Miss Logan, because I’ve given up six years of my life for Bernard, and I don’t intend to lose him now to an
insignificant little shopkeeper such as yourself. ’
Without another word, Ilona marched out of the shop, almost colliding with Vivien who was about to enter. They exchanged a hasty greeting, but Ilona did not linger as she made her way across the street to where her Triumph was parked.
‘She seemed to be in a hurry to leave,’ Vivien remarked, staring thoughtfully at Ilona’s taut, retreating figure before she turned to face Olivia who stood pale and shaking behind the counter. Her eyes narrowed perceptibly. ‘Is there something the matter, Olivia?’
Olivia was not sure whether she ought to laugh or cry, but instead she made a visible effort to pull herself together as she heard herself stammer, ‘No, of—of course not.’
‘Has Ilona said something to upset you?’
‘No, no!’
‘Of course she has,’ Vivien insisted, her narrowed glance watching the colour fluctuate in Olivia’s cheeks. ‘It was about yesterday’s trip to Johannesburg, wasn’t it?’
The accuracy of her guess made Olivia look away hastily to hide her revealing expression. ‘Vivien, I’d rather not discuss it.’
‘Well, I would!’ Vivien persisted, coming round to the other side of the counter and forcing Olivia to face her. ‘Did she tell you to keep off the grass, so to speak?’
Olivia stared into those probing dark eyes so like Bernard’s and knew it would be useless offering a denial. ‘More or less, yes,’ she admitted feebly.
Vivien gestured angrily. ‘Don’t take any notice of what she said, my dear. ’
‘Oh, Vivien, let’s talk about something else,’ Olivia sighed, finding it increasingly difficult to understand why Ilona should have considered her a threat as far as the relationship between Bernard and herself was concerned. Good heavens, she hardly knew the man, and there never could be anything between them other than a mutual interest in Frances. Shaking herself free of these thoughts, she forced a smile to her unwilling lips as she faced Vivien. ‘Did you manage here in
the shop yesterday?’
‘I managed perfectly,’ Vivien smiled warmly. ‘I just hope you found everything in order this morning. ’
‘Everything seems to be in wonderful order,’ Olivia assured her. ‘Everything except my shattered nerves,’ she thought, a little warmth beginning to flow through her veins.
‘I enjoyed myself so much that I wouldn’t mind helping out if you ever need to go away again,’ Vivien continued enthusiastically, and Olivia could have hugged her for saying so.
‘You’re very kind, Vivien.’
‘I’m serious, you know,’ Vivien insisted, her quick smile harbouring a hint of humour. ‘If you ever need an assistant, I’m available.’
‘I’ll remember that,’ Olivia agreed with a brief laugh.
‘What was your day like yesterday?’ Vivien asked suddenly, and Olivia tensed inwardly.
‘Pleasant, thank you,’ she replied politely, changing the subject hastily. ‘Our tapestries should be ready within a month.’
‘Oh, good,’ Vivien enthused.
She remained a few minutes longer, discussing what had occurred in the shop the day before, but when she finally left Olivia felt depressed and more than a little angry as she recalled the conversation she had had with Ilona.
So Bernard had found her an amusing passenger, a novice, and no doubt he and Ilona had discussed this at great length the previous evening. She could accept this, for it was the truth; she had been nervous to a certain extent. But to claim that she was chasing Bernard King was more than just a misrepresentation of the truth, it was a downright lie! This unworthy accusation could only stem from Ilona’s own insecurity with regard to Bernard’s affections, Olivia decided, pitying that lovely creature who looked upon every other unattached woman as an adversary. ‘If only Ilona knew how little interest I have in Bernard,’ Olivia thought, a wry smile lifting the corners of her mouth, but the smile was gone the next instant as a sobering tho
ught pressed to the fore. What if Bernard King himself considered she had been chasing after him?
‘No, he couldn’t!’ Olivia thought wildly. No one knew better than he that Vivien had engineered the entire situation, or did he perhaps think that she had prompted Vivien privately? ‘Oh, lord!’ she moaned, burying her face in her hands for a moment, but the sound of footsteps crossing her threshold made her pull herself together sharply.
Olivia found it difficult to shake off her disturbing thoughts, but she somehow managed to get through the rest of the day without letting it trouble her too much. She could not, however, prevent the sigh of relief from escaping past her lips when it was time to lock up the shop for the night, but, turning to take her bunch of keys off the hook behind the counter, she had the most peculiar sensation that she was no longer alone.
‘Good afternoon, Olivia.’
‘Oh!’ She swung round in alarm to find Bernard standing framed in the entrance, dressed in a light grey safari suit, expensive suede shoes, and the inevitable wide-brimmed hat dangling from his hand.
‘Good afternoon,’ she greeted him nervously.
He lowered his glance to the keys in her hands. ‘Are you about to close up the shop?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good, then I’ll come up and have a cup of coffee with you,’ he stated quite calmly, but Olivia felt her heart quicken with something close to fear.
‘Do—do you think that’s wise?’ she asked unsteadily, unable to meet the intensity of his gaze.
‘I’m not afraid that you will put arsenic in my coffee, if that’s what you mean,’ the deep mockery in his voice scraped along her sensitive nerves.
‘No, that’s not what I meant,’ she corrected with a calmness she was far from experiencing, for she had only one desire, and that was to get rid of him as quickly as possible before Ilona found him there. ‘I was thinking of what people would say if they saw your Land Rover outside my shop after hours,’ she said at last.
‘I couldn’t care less about what people say,’ Bernard exploded with a harshness that made her flinch. ‘If you don’t feel inclined to offer me something to drink, then say so and I'll go.’
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